Milestone
by Meliorism
Summary: It's a surprise when she sees him again, a definite surprise.


**Disclaimer:** _Death Note_ © Tsugumi Ohba & Takeshi Obata.

The phone buzzes. A text.

There is not a message written from the sender, nor any identification other than a single letter. The fourteenth letter of the alphabet: N. She knows what it means, it's him. A clear signal that he wants to convene with them as he did before. Only three years after the widely known and incredibly exhausting Kira case, yet it feels like longer. Halle hasn't seen him since them, not a peep from her previous boss. He was and still remained an enigma. She's kept in touch with Rester and Gevanni; an experience so taxing does not simply allow for distance between partners. They all get the call, but only her and Rester can make it, Gevanni is busy attending FBI engagements of an intense matter- no doubt _he_ has intimate knowledge of this too. The two are surprised to find that this was not a grand international matter like they were expecting, but the bewilderment was still there. Why chase after a case so small and restricted? Perhaps it was not the size, but rather the nature and intimacy of itself that drew their enigma of a boss in. It's a peculiar assignment, like something out a fictional novel, but they all know more than anything that their job is nothing fictitious. When they meet again after a 5 hour flight, it's in a suite nestled within Seattle. Halle and Rester are conversing in low tones to each other; she about the psychological treatment her cousin is receiving given being a war veteran, and he about his family's vineyard in Napa Valley. It's good to catch up as briefly as they can before diving straight into things, for whatever is in store. The busy city below, it reminds her of _that_ time, but soon her attention is diverted to the person behind the tower of Legos and surrounded by computer screens.

**Near**. He's still the same as she remembers; cryptic in his words, steel in his assessments and definitely eccentric in behavior. However- there are definite changes to his presence, most notably the physical change. He's _older_, still younger than her, but not the same frail looking child curled up with socks and peering around finger puppets. No, this is a young man. He wears the same white clothes but the shirt is open and not even the one beneath it can hide the obvious definition in his collarbone, nor the outline of broad shoulders. He's barefoot, no need for socks. Bigger feet. The baby fat is gone, his jaw more sharp, suitable for a 19-year-old. It's still him; calculating in that labyrinth of a mind, the fingers that curl around strands of his hair, and despite the lower pitch of his voice, she can tell. This is Near. She snaps out of her stupor with a slight and unnoticeable shake of her head. He's aged; it's a tad strange, but so what? Everyone experiences it, even the most withdrawn of people. He offers them a momentary welcome in that tone devoid of cheerfulness then gives them the rundown of their assignment:

12 victims in 13 states, their deaths caused by related chemical toxins. Left at the crime scene were letters scrawled on red tape. Easy deduction there; the number of victims and mysterious letters strewn together in a formula.

"The periodic table," Rester supplies

The prodigy nods in agreement "The victims, there are no personal ties, no relations whatsoever."

"So it's aimless or the killer behind the tactics is trying to throw us off their trail?" Halle speaks

"Mm, not necessarily," Near shakes his head "I'm assuming they want to be caught, creativity of this magnitude draws in an audience."

"So it's a _trick_ not a **trap**," says Rester "clearly there's no grudge or vendetta if the killer isn't interested in personal gain."

"An art," she adds

"Correct, they're simply enjoying the mystery that follows in wake of chaos," a finger tapped against the keyboard of one screen, pulling up chemistry equations over the various news articles "crafty one aren't they?"

Neither are sure whether to answer to this, if it's a joke that falls flat in passing or if it's something rhetorical. Near only sighs and nudges a lever with his foot on the mat surrounding him, an electric train comes chugging down set tracks before he continues.

"Get me the files on Oregon, Nevada, and Wyoming."

_[ …later ]_

Rester is on business call with Gevanni, something about an arrangement for his people to enforce a track on their target: 'the chemist' as they have taken to calling them. The request was no doubt on Near's orders as they can all assume. Speaking of whom, she enters through the briefing room- careful not to stumble over any of the dice or Legos he's constructed around the room into his own little world. That's how she imagines him sometimes; the only way he can understand the world around him is to reconstruct it into something he can perceive, thus inadvertently being able to process unconventional ways and ethics outside of the standard societal norm. He's sitting in a chair, typing something as Halle can hear the clicks and taps from quickly moving fingers. There is quiet aside from such and she finds it unnerving, but can't help being drawn in. He pauses and addresses her without turning around.

"Linder."

"Yes?"

"It's been a while. How have you been?"

There's something about this question that she is bewildered by, the white-haired genius wasn't much one for small talk, and he often felt that casual conversation was useless. She was so used to the recluse with a penchant for puzzles and brain teasers that Halle almost forgot he was an actual functioning human being…like her.

"I have little grievances."

"Complaints though?" he prompted

"None that I can say for sure at the moment," she replied

"Hn…"

Well, at least there was no shortage of strange around him. The woman watches his back, observing the way his shoulder blades move as he stretches his arms in front of him. One of those rare moments that he's not curled, crouched or laying in a curve across the floor. He's still hunched over his chair.

"It was boring for a while; the world was scared into silence."

"Nearly put us out of jobs," she half-joked "none of the scum wanted to come out and run amok."

"The arrangement wasn't enjoyable," more clicks at the desktop "the most mundane of cases taken."

"Would you have liked things to go back to what they were?"

There comes a pause and she wonders for a solid few seconds if that was really something he wanted. Criminals running rampant so he could decide what case to solve and who to bring to justice, but his response did the trick of reassuring her. "No. That's a sad state of affairs I do not wish on anyone, not even the world."

He turns to look at her, the way his grey eyes scan over her form- scrutinizing with an otherwise apathetic façade makes her break out in goosebumps. Does he have to do that? She is greeted with even bigger surprise when he stands. Honest to goodness, he stands from his chair! There is a loose slouch, but even so this is an event she's never predicted nor bothered to imagine. He's walking towards her, bare feet making the slightest of sounds on the floor of the room while a hand teases the curls of his hair. She has to give him props, still managing to surprise her after so long.

_Oh come off it, Linder. Three years is not that long._

Well, it is when you don't see or hear any trace of the person you once knew. As he is upon her now, the woman stares at him. It's a bit too close for comfort, an inch or two apart. Apparently personal space was a double-standard with him; no one could approach him as they pleased, yet he could do so to them, another change in Near that she found curious. His stare captures her and she's unsure how to react; to either look into the depths of his eyes and try to figure out what works behind them, or say something to disrupt their…_closeness_. He smells of pressed linen and something else she can't quite describe. God, this was something to be filed away into her memory for private musings.

"Those are the files on Arizona and New Mexico, yes?" her points downward.

Halle's fingers curl against the smooth surface of the manila folders in her hands, she nods and brings them up for him to take, which he does. He stares at the documents in his own arms before his gaze flickers back up to her again. There is the tiniest curve at the corner of his mouth and it fashions his lips into a smirk. He is amused.

"Thank you Linder."

"You're welcome Near."

She leaves him to his own devices and goes to search for Rester, the heels of her shoes clicking as she walks down the hall. A drink or something may be in order after that startling encounter, too busy trying to piece together Near's motives for getting so close to include her slightly increased heart rate.

_[ …much later ]_

"I hit my growth spurt."

It doesn't take Halle long to snap out of it and realize what he's talking about or why he said what he just said. She now knows that he knows that she's noticed. The look on Near's face almost seems to say _'honestly, you could've at least been a tad subtler'_ as he sits on the couch. The air is refreshingly cool within the spacious lounge. Neither of them can get to sleep, his over functioning brain and her insomnia. She opted to wander about in the spacious area, take a look at those twinkle lights in the city below the wide windows. He'd already been seated on the couch, a juice pack hanging from between his lips. Her gaze had lingered and that is no doubt the reason why he'd spoken up. She's been staring at him all day.

"I thought you had a condition," she admits

"I did and I still do. It doesn't prevent my body from growing and developing as it should," He gives a light lift of his shoulders.

"So physical exertion is a no-go then?"

"Mhm."

Good, because standing up was enough, (he was taller than her!) for him to do any excitable physical activity like sports or even a simple jog would make her consider him an alien. She sits down beside him, a test to see if he'll shrink away or say something in accordance to it. Nope, his gaze is elsewhere and the juice pack now discarded into the trash bin on his end of the couch. It's weird, just seeing him sitting so effortlessly, without the creepy emotionless vibe or expression. He's more relaxed at night. The blonde can't help but like this side of him that she rarely gets to see. It lets her know that yes, he is indeed human and despite the front he uses to deflect others- to think instead of feel, he's just like them.

"Something you want to ask?"

"It's just…I'm not used to seeing you like this. So grown up."

"I'm only nineteen, Linder."

"True, but like this, it's new for me to adjust to."

He turns his head in a simple motion to look at her, his eyes blink owlishly in a way that his more curious than calculating before he replies: "Do you like it?"

"A bit."

"Halle."

It's the way he says her name in that newly deepened voice of his that evokes her to speak the truth of her next word.

"…_yes_."

Suddenly he's moved closer to her and before she can process what's going on, his lips are on hers. She manages a startled grunt before gradually easing into it. Well then. Near has never been impulsive- unpredictable yes, but never impulsive. So this is new territory…or perhaps not. Her lidded eyes closing as she kisses him, he doesn't have much experience in this field despite being an older boy, so she teaches him the best she can. Lightly chapped lips and a body that crawls against her own reclined one. It's not horrible, neither of them are married nor have duties to significant others, just a shared past of experience on an exhausting plight. That's enough isn't it? Wasn't there a saying that trauma forges a bond of some kind? He's younger than her though, and whatever they have going on behind closed doors and over constructed professional walls may or may not launch into something deeper entirely.

_So what?_

It doesn't seem to bother him. Those hands of his, bigger and appropriate for him to place onto her waist, she can tell they're itching for more the way he's tracing small circles into her negligee beneath her wine colored robe. She gasps into his mouth because it tickles and treats him to exploration of her own hands, crawling beneath his white shirt and even further beneath his black tank to feel definite muscle and warm skin. He's not cold the way she thought he would be, and her lips curve when she notices the way he flinches beneath her nails. The heat flushes in her body; if someone had told her years ago that she'd be looking at Near in the way that she recently had or that their relationship would even become _this_ intimate, she would've either laughed or given the person in question a nice sized welt on their face. His mouth soon finds her jaw then makes its way to her neck, kissing every spot he can find. It's greedy, but she likes it a lot. Warmth pooled in the pit of her stomach, flourishing to every part of her body, making her fingers tingle and her toes curl in pleasantry. Hands then reached for his hair, fingers weaving their way into those thick strands and pulling firmly. A groan escaped from his throat, a sound she was quite honestly pleased to hear, but unfortunately he had pulled back from their kiss to momentarily catch his breath. Halle swore she'd never seen so much color in his face before, and to think that she helped bring about that filled her with a sense of accomplishment.

"Testing the waters were you?" she tried

"Recklessly," he admitted, though there wasn't a hint of regret as far as she could tell.

"Maybe we should bring this to a halt, I don't believe that—

He shook his head and she noticed the look in his eyes, behind the excitement he was thinking, trying to make sense of it all. Their short but sweet romp clearly had an effect on him that he wasn't used to feeling. As much as she did not want the adrenaline to leave her body after such an event, she recognized the gravity of their situation. Any relation of _that_ magnitude was to be carefully handled; she knew that Near understood this. He licked at his lips before turning his attention back to her; lowering himself so that his head rested on the apex of her chest, he sighed. Fingers resumed their combing through his hair, not rough, but in a soothing motion. Yes, they would both need some time to think about this, perhaps even after their case was done. A few minutes later within her own drowsiness she's debating falling to sleep like this, she heard him murmur ever so slightly-

"It's good to have you back, Halle."


End file.
